deepundergroundpoetry.com
Gas Fire
Leaf-green and rather sleek, I thought,
at fourteen or fifteen, the internet
my bookseller. I've lost it now,
that old collected works,
as evergreen as Christian hymns.
He taught me, I suppose, that loneliness
is like a house, untenanted in spite
of what’s been bought and set out new
for laughter, years, and food, and love.
The silence like a single glove.
The line remembered most, back then,
was this: The gas-fire breathes.
Last verse of Best Society. Before my time,
the gas fire. Yet I could see and feel
its heat, as if his lonely house was mine.
at fourteen or fifteen, the internet
my bookseller. I've lost it now,
that old collected works,
as evergreen as Christian hymns.
He taught me, I suppose, that loneliness
is like a house, untenanted in spite
of what’s been bought and set out new
for laughter, years, and food, and love.
The silence like a single glove.
The line remembered most, back then,
was this: The gas-fire breathes.
Last verse of Best Society. Before my time,
the gas fire. Yet I could see and feel
its heat, as if his lonely house was mine.
Published 18th Jan 2023
Author's Note
Inspired by a conversation with a friend. The poem from which “the gas-fire breathes“ is quoted: https://allpoetry.com/Best-Society
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
19th Jan 2023 1:09am
Larkin night well have been a miserable old so and so, but fuck, he could write
Anonymous
19th Jan 2023 11:32am
Your friend has exquisite taste ;) I love this, The capture of your personal memories into a lifelong connection with words on a page. 'Home is so Sad' entraps in 10 lines so much of the complexities and emotional push-pull of identity. Opening of 'Wants' is that universal juxtaposition of the need for solitude and the craving for company....'beyond all this, the wish to be alone.' Been reading Larkin a lot lately. Lol. He seems to be a Winter poet.
Totally concur with Paul. For a poet who wished his words to be read by the average person in the pub, he wouldn't lower himself to sit amongst that crowd. An unashamed snob. But our snob.
Totally concur with Paul. For a poet who wished his words to be read by the average person in the pub, he wouldn't lower himself to sit amongst that crowd. An unashamed snob. But our snob.
19th Jan 2023 3:10pm
19th Jan 2023 2:00pm
Nice 👌 ink spill 👏 🤔 my friend please keep 🙏 on writing ✍ ok 👌 peace ✌ and blessings 🙏 always 💖
20th Jan 2023 11:00pm
